The Pain That No One Knows
by RachelSkywalker01
Summary: In the final battle against the Dark Lord Sauron, there were 10 members in The Fellowship of the Ring, one a elven ranger by the name of Rain. This is her story, and how she fought for the freedom of two worlds, Middle Earth and Narnia. LegolasxOC
1. Chapter 1

Hello, Fan-fictioners! If you have come to explore the start of Rain's sequel, The Trust That No One Wants, then unfortunately, you've come at a bad time. This segment of Rain's story is currently under construction. Soon, other chapters will be uploaded and the story continued! Thank you for reading!

The Pain That No One Knows 1

The pub was dim, light only coming from the few sparse candles placed around on empty tables, and they flickered with each coming and going of customers. Twin lanterns hung from opposite slats of the front doorway, swaying eerily from the constant opening and closing of the door.

Wooden chairs squeaked and scraped across the rotten floors, and every now and then a table rattled and shuffled around by some argument and such. The bartender often yelled to his workers, busty waitress-maidens in dresses and corsets a few sizes too small, as they bustled about minding their P's and Q's. Every now and then a rowdy patron smacked the behinds of those helpless employees, laughing and causing trouble for all in the crowded joint.

This was the environment I was reduced to, my quivering informant budging no further than to meet in this decaying tavern.

"I-I-I-I..." He stuttered. "I-I w-want p-p-payment first-t." He shivered and shook so hard his fake spectacles slipped off his nose several times during the pronunciation of that one sentence and he shuffled with them for some time afterwords.

"You'll get your payment after I learn something useful." I refused, watching his eyes harden from behind the shadow of my cloak's hood. "Has _Morohtar_ reappeared?_"_

He ran a nail-bitten hand through his greasy brown hair and his teeth started chattering. Despite his double-layered, black-with-gold-embroidery cloak, he seemed awfully... chilly.

"T-T-That, I c-c-can't say." His stuttering suddenly became a lot more annoying. "I-I-I-I-"

"Why not?" I silenced him, catching the way his eyes seemed to be flickering everywhere but me. To a brimming bar-maid, out the stained window to my right, to my pale fingers drumming impatiently on the table-top, and finally daring to venture close to my face-concealed by darkness. Was he... looking for an escape?

"Why not?" I repeated myself, making sure the steel in my voice was enough to make him snivel.

"I-I-I-I..." He trailed off. "I-I-I don't know if he's back!" Finally, some courage slipped from his posture as he suddenly grew angry. But as pleasing as it was to see scum grow a backbone, I found myself infuriated at his advance. I shot upward, sliding back the chair as I stood, and stalked away towards the exit.

"W-W-Wait!" I stopped and listened, but didn't bother to turn back. "I-I-I-I know who would though. An elven chap- in Rivendell! Th-Th-They called him El-El-Elrond!"

The stuttering fool grabbed my arm. "Now give me my money!"

I shoved him backwards, sending him sprawling over the table and completely silencing the entire tavern. "I promised you money for information I didn't already know! I owe you nothing!"

With that, I left him there stuttering and attempting to restore peace to the bustling joint and slipped out into the quiet street.

"Oh, _Ohtar."_ I mumbled some time later, leaning against the oak of her stall. She merely whinnied in response, shuffling her hooves across the stone stall floor. Even though she couldn't talk back, she often gave interesting responses to my outspoken thoughts. "It looks like I'll have to go to Rivendell after all."

She snorted and pawed the ground, grinding some grain between her teeth.

"I'll have to face Elrond again." That earned me a louder huff, reminding me that she had suggested that option in the first place. The corner of my mouth turned upwards and I leaned my head against the post at the entrance to her stall. My left boot came upwards too, resting the rugged leather next to my knee.

"Although, it would be nice to see some semblance of home before the end."

I let the thought hang, gaining no reaction from my beloved horse, excepting the crunching of oats. Moonlight streamed through a small, upper opening, making _Ohtar's_ mane and coat gleam a dazzling silver. That reason alone caused much debate within me over her name. I had considered _Ithil_, or moon over _Ohtar._ But the former was ruled out for two reasons: one, it had too many i's for me to deem it likeable and two, the moon fluctuates from the sky, never really staying true. I needed a stable, constant companion in my life -other than my shadow of a younger brother- with a faithful heart. _Ohtar_, or in my Elven, native tongue, _Warrior_, proved over the centuries later to be the better choice, as she showed she had a warrior's heart.

A chilling city breeze blew through the stable through the opening, ruffling my hair and making it sway around my hidden, but developed chest. I hid this feminine quality well, having no other choice if I wanted the average person to respect me. A woman, much less an elven woman, was rarely seen on her own and was so discouraged that rare didn't explain how un-often it actually happened. Whether by luck, or exaggeration of how developed I really was, I passed as enough of a male figure to sneak around unnoticed by the majority of townspeople. I guessed my inconsistency with staying in populated areas didn't hurt my odds of being noticed. Poor cloth and a variety of weapons also gave the intimidating aura of a Ranger, also helping my guise- as no sensible person would ever think interaction with a ranger as a wise thing.

Suddenly, I shivered. Poor cloth had disguising advantages, but it wasn't very warm. Turning, I left the comfort of my earlier stance and dug through my saddle bags. I was looking for one of my finer pieces of clothing, a brown pullover. Quietly, I slipped off my cloak and tugged the pullover on top of my usual winter wear, replacing my cowl afterwords.

Standing up, a voice from the stable doors shouted to me. "Who do you think you are?! Terrorizing me in from of the lesser people of my city! Did you think I wouldn't seek my revenge? Becoming too scared of a harmless ranger!? I'll show you! Give me my money!"

My former informant brandished a sword, too elaborate to not have been gotten by ill means, and thrashed it around in attempts to look threatening. I ignored him, hoisting my saddlebags onto my obedient horse.

"Hey! Are you listening to me?!"

I climbed on next, after saddling my companion properly, and trotted calmly towards the exit. Convenient for my escape, I had left my hood down, and my real, feminine, facial features were enough to make the coward drop his sword and his jaw. Warrior and I slipped past him, never giving him a second thought and galloped off.

To Rivendell, and to an unknown adventure unlike any other.


	2. Chapter 2

**For my newer readers, the italicized words beneath spoken phrases are translations! Different languages will be found in this story such as: Elvish, Khuzdul or Dwarvish, -and depending on how much of the original story is kept- Black Speech. Elven languages are represented by italicizes. Khuzdul by bold, and the Black Speech by a combination of both. I may announce any changes regarding languages in future chapters, but for now, that's what will be used.**

The Pain That No One Knows 2

Elrond's study was placed on the top floor in the center of his beloved city. The dusty, sun-lit room seemed cozy- except my veins were frozen and my heart pounded in my chest. Elrond, his long brown hair draped over the back of his polished white chair, currently poured over a document of an older age.

I stood in a shadow nearby, debating whether or not to approach him, and how to do so if I chose to.

"I know why you have come." I didn't know he knew I was here. "Although I can't say I did not expect you earlier."

I looked down, scuffing my boots against the stone floor. Vine and leaf designs swirled their way around the study, across the stone, the carved pillars and weaved through the ceiling. It wasn't home, but Rivendell, with all of its fall colors and artwork, was a prime example of beauty.

Summoning courage and dispelling shame, I stepped into the streaming sunlight. My hood was down, allowing me to blend in with my kind. My ranger attire, though, did set me back a step and I got a few odd looks.

So I didn't exactly stay around crowded areas long.

"_Istan quet'Eldarin."_ I stubbornly replied. "I have not forgotten."

-_I_ c_an speak Elvish- _

"No?" He shuffled his document to the side, and turned to face me. "Still, it does not seem right."

I bristled at that, and he noticed., his once seemingly welcome expression clouding. "You do not understand the severity of your actions."

"And you did not understand the severity of the situation!" I exclaimed, rather rudely, yet unable to contain my anger. Embarrassed, I turned my head away, gazing out the window and avoiding his penetrating brown eyes. I bit my lip, and an ordinary silver leaf on the wall caught my eye.

Lord Elrond slumped back into his ornate chair, and his right arm draped over the matching round table. A mahogany bookshelf caught my eye, and I cautiously crept over to it. A leather bound book laid open on an extended shelf, the faded yellow pages flapping in the bare breeze.

A picture, hand-drawn originally, made up the left page and a passage describing its origin and meaning covered the right. I placed my hands over it, pinning the pages down so I could read- while Elrond watched in knowing silence. The picture was of a ring, whose center shone a dark foreboding green gem wrapped in silver vines. But the picture itself was in a pencil black and white- for the ring it represented wrapped around my ring finger above it.

I didn't have to read the written passage to know the story, and I slammed the book shut.

"I know enough of the story to understand the events that transpired," After some silence, he spoke. "And enough to know that your actions, rash as they were, were not without good cause."

He stood suddenly, silently and paced to the open balcony.

"No," He finally gave me my answer. "And yet all of the signs point to him and his master's current uprising."

I looked up from my scrutiny of the faded book's cover. "Current?" I faced him in worrying confusion.

"Yes." My eyes widened at his words. "The one ring has been found. And the Nazgul have been released."

Involuntarily, my throat constricted, yet I was able to speak. "Where is it now? Do they have it?"

"It is on its way here. Gandalf and Strider have made it their priority to bring it forth for the council's decision."

"Council?"

"Yes. I have called a council and members from each race of Middle Earth are to attend and discuss its fate." He turned towards me, resting his hands against the railing behind him. "I would forbid your attendance, but somehow I suspect that would not stop you anyway."

I smiled slightly, still facing the bookshelf, but turned for him to see it. "_Hantanyel."_ _-Thank you-_

Silence permeated the small space and the book beneath my hands seemed to grow warm, perhaps by some of Elrond's magic, or my own anxiousness. I couldn't ask, could I? It would be inconsiderate and rash, wouldn't it?

"How many..." I almost halted the words coming out of my mouth at their own accord. "How many copies of this are there?"

I sensed Elrond's grimace, knowing full well that my question would earn it.

"...Of that particular novel?" I dared a look behind me, instead of frowning, he seemed mildly amused. "One."

I suddenly remembered to breathe, drawing in a breath before shakily letting it out. I felt pathetic, knowing such a fragile script held such an unmentionable secret such as mine. I should be better than that.

"Can you still not get it off?" He cleared my cluttered thoughts like dust from slate. "Is that why you have not returned home?"

I scoffed, finally turning to fully face him. "I could not return home even if I wanted to."

I felt as if our conversation -how scarce, and aggravating, and treasured it was- would have proceeded further if not for the clattering of hooves ringing from the stone of the main gate. Elrond took one look towards the sounds and dashed out the door of his study.

I followed at his heels, protectiveness surging though me for my elven kin.

Arwen rode proud and panicked through the winding streets covered with autumn leaves. Her horse, a stallion whose name I didn't know, kicked up sparks in its driven haste. Her brown hair tangled with the creature's, leaving a darkened silver trail in their wake. A bundle of larger size was slumped in her lap, rocking and bouncing limply, a mop of dark hair spilling out of wrapped folds of fabric.

In the open courtyard below the study balcony, Arwen skidded to a stop, her horse's hooves threatening to set fire to the dried-leaf floor, but she was out of the saddle before sparks flew into the air.

"Father, please, he needs help."

If Elrond could have what would be considered a weakness, it would be Arwen. She brought out the more caring, and manipulating side of him. The usual stoic, easy-as-a-rock to read demeanor disappeared, and he became increasingly predictable when it came to his daughter.

Cradling the foreign bundle in her arms, Arwen was hurried away into their home. Feeling very much like a useless third wheel, I hung back, a cautious worry coming over me. Helpless and clueless, I was startled out of my unseeing sight by a warm hand placed over my shoulder.

"He's with Elrond now, so Frodo should be alright. There's no need to worry over him more, Rain."

My concern eased at his words, but still hung at bay by an invisible cord. I smiled, turning.

"Still playing with hobbits a third of your size, Gandalf?" I jabbed, grasping his outstretched forearm and gripping tightly. He smiled at me, pulling lightly on our contact to pull me into an embrace.

"Still a young elf responding to a Dwarven name, Rain?" He smiled to me, his eyes laughing, but not brightly. So he was still worried for the hobbit, Frodo, himself? But he continued on, pushing tenderly on my shoulders, guiding me inside. "Come, give an old man some company while he waits on a friend."

As we walked through the main hallway, I looked over the simple, open elegance for once. Noticing its beauty without rushing due to distractions. The silver stone pillars blended with the trunks of the trees outside, whose leaves started to fall and fade to match the orange floor. The sun fell behind us, casting a pink and yellow glow onto the serenity around us. I let out a heavy breath, and watched it curl through the wind, it being cold enough to catch an outline, but too warm to fog. Gandalf stopped, settling himself onto a bench, using his staff to transfer his weight. He suddenly looked his age, resting against the wall, gazing into the close space.

I leant forward, my palms pressing against the sill of the wall. I could see the whole of Rivendell here, bathed in a darkened heavenly glow with a few lit lamps scattered through the streets. Rooftops peaked over the last few rays of light and few people strayed among the serene sunset. Fall colors mingled, not quite giving into winter, but using the last of their energy to gleam a golden, patterned pathway.

I wanted to remember this, so I could miss it someday. I found my temple cooling against a carved column and my fingers brushing along the silver and green vines, some real, some forged.

So distanced in my distracting fantasies, I didn't realize Gandalf's eyes watching, until he spoke.

"I never thought Rivendell would be graced with your presence again." I saw the knowing dimming his normally bright blue eyes, but he still teased me as if nothing was wrong.

I traced my tongue over my chapped lips, and drew in air. "It's so calm...and... cool. I had forgotten what that feels like."

Silence weighed over us, and I felt guilty for not giving him much companionship, but I didn't know what to say. Would 'how are you?' suffice?

Before I could decide, he started on his own. "I'm sure Elrond has told you, the one ring has been found." I nodded, focusing on my view. "It is Frodo who carries it. He brought it here."

Bewilderment entered my voice. "He could bear it?"

I knew my mother held a ring of power, sure, it was not possessed by a vengeful, evil spirit, but I saw firsthand how the ring seemed to make her hands and body heavy and her eyes tired. I did not hold a true ring of power, but I felt a taste of evil magic from my own every day, and that could not come close to compare.

"Strider and three others were meant to come with him, but the Nazgul prevented them from traveling together." He cast a sidelong look at me. "They will most likely arrive in a few days, and I'm sure Aragorn would enjoy having you here to welcome him."

His face lightened with a laugh at my sudden energetic, mischievous grin. "You mean surprise him?"


	3. Chapter 3

The Pain That No One Knows 3

"Ugh! Where is he _Ohtar_? He was supposed to arrive hours ago!" I ran my hands down my face in aggravation and boredom, stretching the skin as I did so. I huffed, crossing my arms and legs. "I can't take this much longer!"

She snorted, the sound rumbling shortly through her snout beneath her ears and my feet. I rested my head at the back curve of her saddle and rested my heels on her head. As hard of a leather as it was made from, Warrior's saddle was worn enough to make a decent pillow. Her frontal parts though, could use some work, as her ears twitched to slap my bare feet for the thousandth time.

My cloak laid sprawled across a large tree root, some few feet away, my belt and sword draped over it. And my boots were scattered somewhere on opposite ends of the field, their socks trapped inside.

The sun shone brightly today, beating down over the city who dared to welcome the cold of yesterday.

I hummed a tune, content to bask in the deadly warm rays and pointed my toes to the beat of a Gondorian ballad; while a stray green piece of straw hung between my lips and swayed faintly in the breeze.

Finally becoming fed up with me, Warrior stomped her hooves and trotted in a circle, trying to warn me to get off, but I ignored her. Knowing I wasn't going to move without further prompting, she nickered and bucked, sending my face to meet the grass.

I paused there, in the spinning shadows of the leaves overhead, sitting in my stupidity for a moment before remembering that air was vital to survive and my 'loyal' horse had just knocked it out of me. Rolling onto my back, I spat out my thread of green wheat and propped myself into a sitting position.

Snorting, she tossed her mane and turned her backside to me, twitching her tail.

In response, I sent her a wry glare, knowing full well that it was my fault but still feeling the sing in my ribs. I rubbed at them softly, trying to ebb the hurt away. A sway in the shadows caught my eye, but I laid flat on my back and looked towards the sky.

"Who knew he was so slow?" I chuckled. "He must have had trouble keeping up with those chubby hobbits."

"Maybe so, but at least I know when it's safe to let my guard down." So he had bought my goads, hah!

"Oh?" He wasn't in sight yet- where was he?

A blade sliced in my peripheral vision- there he was.

Metal flashed, one blade curving around my neck, and another sliding from my sleeve as I spun and stood-our fake duel reaching a tie. I stared hard into his eyes, not flinching, and he mimicked me. But the overly-dramatic tension cracked with the breaking of a grin across my face.

"I'll beat you yet, Strider." I boasted, grabbing his forearm and shaking it firmly. "One of these days, I'll catch you with your pants down!"

He gave me his usual, distanced, bemused smile, returning my gesture with the same warmth. "So you keep insisting." He seemed tired compared to my enthusiasm, but I guess that was expected after his rush to get here. I stood back a little, taking him in- it had been at least a few winters since I saw him.

"Hah! You've gotten scruffier!" I pulled at the dark hair surrounding his head. His expression soured. "And grumpier." I couldn't help but tease him, even if he was so exhausted. I grabbed his shoulder, pulling him along with me as I walked back to Rivendell, chatting about something I knew he wouldn't remember when he woke up again in a few hours. I left him in the care of the loving Arwen and trudged off to the stables, disappointed at the short greeting after the long distance.

"I almost had him, _Ohtar,_ I swear!" I leant against the wood of the stable wall, crunching into an apple. "If I had only seen the knife coming sooner! And I even knew he was there the whole time!" She snorted, fluttering her mane, and reached out to try and steal my snack. I rubbed her nose away.

My attention was suddenly drawn to the door to my right, which was slowly opening. Expecting a six-foot elf, my eyes widened when they traveled three feet lower to find a blonde hobbit closing the door behind him. Turning, he met my somewhat surprised gaze and smiled, wishing me a "Good Morning".

Dumbfounded, I gaped a bit more in surprise, and went to take another bite, only to realize Warrior had stolen my apple while I was distracted. She snickered, flopping her mane from side to side when I glared at her. Huffing, I pulled another from a hidden pocket, chewing loudly to taunt her, and again keeping it just out of her reach. She played our game, lightly rearing up on her back hooves and getting up close in her vain attempts to reach the apple, all while I kept crunching and dodging her advances. I didn't know I was laughing -really laughing!- until I couldn't breathe.

I turned away from Warrior and she kept trying to creep around my huddled form. I looked up, forgetting about the stables' other visitor until I caught him watching with mild amusement from another stall. The sun collected in his blonde hair making it shine like the sun among the curls. He was short and round, like hobbits, and his smile was certainly as joyous as the jovial creatures tended to be. Despite my embarrassment, I still kept smiling. Such a strange emotion.

Ending the game, I finished the juicy flesh of the apple and fed the core to my silver horse and stroked her mane. Too many would make her fat, but just one more wouldn't hurt.

"She's beautiful, what's her name?" The hobbit's question was directed to me. I twisted silver between my fingertips as I answered. "_Ohtar._"

"...That means 'Warrior', doesn't it?"

I smiled again, the strange emotion coming back. "Yes. And she is a proud tribute to her namesake."

Warrior practically purred at all the attention, whinnying when the hobbit came closer and stroked her fore-flank. He stayed quiet for a while, content to just pet my horse. His hands looked soft, and they must have felt that way too, for _Ohtar _didn't shake away his attention.

"I thought Strider was the only ranger around. I didn't know there were other... better looking ones." He looked up at me, smiling again. "I saw you with him earlier, shame Gandalf didn't send you to find us instead."

I laughed. "He's certainly something." But my smile faded. "I haven't seen him or Gandalf for many winters. Nor have I been in Rivendell for so long before."

"Why is that?"

For once, I was honest, with him and myself. "It reminds me too much of home." Sure Elrond and I rarely saw eye-to-eye, and my secret could easily be revealed here. But the trees... the lights... the decorating silver... It made me ache for home.

"I know how you feel. I can't stop thinking of home either." He stopped, leaving his hand pressed to my horse's side. "But I won't leave Mr. Frodo behind."

He turned towards me, stretching out his hand. "Sorry. I'm Sam."

I took it, shaking lightly. "Rain." And I smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

The Pain That No One Knows 4

Sam told me Gandalf and Elrond were gathering a council to determine what course of action they should take. He didn't give me specifics, but then again not only should he be careful of what he says to people he just met, but I had gotten them from Elrond already. He went on to explain that he had come to make sure the new parties' horses had a well-kept stable for shelter. He also said that he wanted to sneak Bill, a pony harbored in a few stalls over, some apples. At that, I laughed and pressed one into his palm. His face lit up like the sun.

From there, several hours had led me to wander around Rivendell aimlessly, before hiding in the forest to get away from other civilians. It's not that I didn't like my own race, I just had a hard time associating with them. I had been raised apart from the other elves my age when I was young, and back then people treated me differently when they found out who I was. They would treat me differently today too, but more with scorn and disregard than anything. Ah! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts.

Getting tired of loneliness brought me back to the heart of the city, a circle of stone pavement surrounded by several statues of old. It wasn't made of quite as silver a stone as the rest of the city, but it had an almost shining pallor to it. Cautious, I lightly stepped into the center and drew my finger across the stone counter in the middle, scraping my fingernails into the indents of design and time.

Red and orange leaves had fallen from the trees over the past few days, giving the center a bit of a haunted appearance, but it was they that warned me of my company. A _crunch _filled the air. I spun suddenly, crouching in defense, and prepared to let loose my knives from their sleeves. But I stopped.

It was another hobbit, slightly taller than Sam, but hobbits never grew that tall anyway. His hair was white and his skin wrinkled, but many of the creases were from laugh lines. And right at that moment, they were in use.

"Rain! My dear Rain! How good to see you again!" He chuckled warmly, hobbling forward as hobbits do.

Suspicion vanished, dissapearing as quickly as a shadow in sunshine.

"Bilbo!" I ran forward, springing up, and wrapping him in a hug. "You haven't aged a day!"

While overall the complement wasn't true, I hadn't seen Bilbo Baggins for a good fifty years at least, and the burglar's smile hadn't changed a bit. I wondered how he did it.

"Ho!" He exclaimed. "You've gotten quite taller since I last saw you." I bent forward as he moved to pat my shoulder. "Quite taller."

"How has the shire been?"

"Boring!" He threw his hands in the air. "After adventuring with Thorin's company, I've come to miss the mountains and the trees, and the elves!" He sighed. "I always loved Rivendell." I smiled, if only he had seen the Lothlorien... "Why without my Frodo, I would have gone crazy long ago!" My eyebrows scrunched together, familiar with the name, but not sure why.

"Oh yes! My nephew Frodo!" A flash of red and white coated Bilbo's sleeve as he gestured to another, unseen person from the background. "Frodo! Come say hello!"

Bilbo's nephew, Frodo, came forward from behind where he hadn't caught my attention. A mop of brunette came slowly into focus. He was taller than Bilbo and skinnier than Sam, and had the sharpest, bluest eyes I had ever seen. They were wide, no doubt taking in my appearance and comparing it to the other elves'. A brown mop came into memory, a recent one with Arwen.

"Frodo, you remember the stories I told you? About the Misty Mountains?" Bilbo placed his arm on Frodo's shoulders, drawing his attention away from me. "This is Rain, one of our party, and she's good friends with that Aragorn fellow."

"Pleased to meet you." He said quietly, stretching forward a hand to take mine.

"Likewise." I took it warmly. "How have you been feeling? I saw Arwen bring you in."

"It hurts," He sheepishly rolled his shoulder. "But I'm getting used to it."

I wished I could have continued the conversation, but I had exhausted my knowledge of Frodo, and he seemed rather quiet. Lucky for me, Bilbo brought me back from humiliation. "And how have you been, Rain? Have you tried visiting home?"

It was sweet of him to ask, but bittersweet were the memories his question brought up. "No." Somehow I still managed a smile. "I don't think I ever will. I don't even think I want to anymore."

"And your mother is doing well?"

"From what I know, yes." I sighed, wistfulness entering my eyes as I gazed around. "It's been a while since I've been around my kinfolk."

"You don't live in Rivendell?" Frodo asked.

"No," I stated, looking at him. "I live out in the wild. I'm a ranger, same as Strider."

If possible, his eyes seemed to get bigger, and I smiled. It certainly was strange, wasn't it?

"Ho! So Dwalin finally let you out of his sight, eh?" Bilbo chortled.

"It took some convincing, but I managed to do it." I laughed, but it turned sorrowful. "I have to visit him soon, it's been too long since I've been to Moria." I chuckled. "But he and Balin are sure to be busy."

"No doubt plotting to humiliate you for being gone so long!"

"No doubt." My train of thought was cut off by the arrival of two new faces running up the path.

"Frodo, Frodo!" They shouted, and Frodo was soon surrounded by the pair of hobbits. One, taller than the other, blonde, and a bit more of a serious disposition came close but didn't smother Frodo like the other. The second, a lighter brunette than his friend, smiled freely with a childlike innocence. He seemed young, and yet not so young, but childish in nature.

The shorter, second one, chattered animatedly as the blonde corrected slight exaggerations of the story as his friend told it. I watched amused, if all hobbits were like the excited one, no wonder Gandalf found their company so rewarding. I had only been to the shire once and I hadn't been there long, nor was I supposed to be there in the first place.

"Oh, and who's this?" The shorter brunette noticed me, turning his head by accident and catching a glace of my form. He spoke with a slight accent, hinting at a different town of the shire than his quieter friends.

"Merry, Pippin." Frodo introduced me with a slight smile on his face. "This is Rain, she's friends with Aragorn and Uncle Bilbo."

I gave a slight bow to the duo with their mouths hanging open.

"Well how do you do? I'm Pippin." The brunette spoke up first.

"And I'm Merry, the taller one." The blonde joked, smiling as he was elbowed in the side by his counterpart, who protested: "Only by half an inch!"

Soon after that, I was forgotten, as the duo pulled Frodo away to see something that related to their earlier story. Bilbo chuckled as they parted, his nephew being dragged by the cuff of his sleeve. He then moved to follow them, giving me a hug and wishing me a fond farewell. "It's good to see you again Rain."

As sudden as the intrusion came, it left. In it's wake left memories of an adventure stirred in my mind, and I retreated into the forest once more, if only to relive them for a little while.


End file.
